That probably
sounds boring, but I love history and I'm pretty obsessed with
that building. I also liked getting to meet the various people
who came through the Wren.

At certain points
in the year, most of our visitors were just lost souls
seeking a bathroom or the admissions office.

Some, however,
had an interest in history or some time to kill and ended up
following me around the 17th-century building while I rattled off
facts about the portraits and the Civil War-era bullet
holes.

After I took them
through all the rooms, we'd often have a quick chat. I'd ask
where they were visiting from. They'd ask me what year I was and
what I was studying.

When I revealed
that I was a history major to my tour group, most people would
respond in one of two ways: They'd either say something like, "Oh,
obviously," because what other kind of person wants to talk about
Flemish bonds and Lord Cornwallis on a Saturday morning. (The
answer is lots of people — majors of all kinds worked as tour
guides in the building.)

Then they might ask me another
question about the history of William and Mary; or
they'd say, "You'll be a
wonderful history teacher!"

It was the second
response that I found interesting. It was a lovely compliment,
but I found that people were often very insistent that teaching
was the only way for me to go — even after I told them that
my interests didn't lie with education.

I
once got into a very polite conversation — tour guidesdon'targue with guests — with a nice
but unyielding tourist who said, "You have to go
intoteaching because
that's the only thing to do with a history
major." (I heard this over and over again.) She
didn't even specify what level I'd be teaching at, just that it
was inevitable.

OK … no.

I'm not knocking
education, obviously. I'm not sure many people
understand the kind of work that goes into teaching. It's not
like rolling out of bed once a week to give a historical tour to
a group of people you'll never see again.
One of my best friends is a teacher. She's
brilliant. I couldn't do what she does. Honestly, most
people couldn't.

I also get why
people make assumptions like the insistent tourist did. There's
something sensible and comforting about a linear career path. You
take the relevant classes; you graduate, and you're
basically all set. And when you're a history major, going on
to teach history is one of the few linear career paths you've
got.

Still, liberal-arts
majors, disregard the well-meaning people who are fixated on the
career path of least resistance. Maybe this is naive (or maybe it
makes me sound like a humanities shill), but a good
liberal-arts education should teach you how to think, write, and
speak. Once you have those skills, you can do whatever you
want.

That's not to say you should major in English
and then expect to dive right into a brilliant career as a NASA
astrobiologist. Obviously, certain careers come with specific
requirements.

However, it's up
to you to forge your way into most other industries. A degree
won't get you a job, but cultivating experience and connections
in the field you want to pursue will. So don't get lead down the
garden path that your major is always the be-all and
end-all of your future career.